


It's Hard Being Two

by Al_in_the_air



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Dad!Harry trying to understand his son, Domestic Harry and his overly emotional toddler, F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation, Harry and Ginny Discord's Prompt Posse, He's doing a good job okay, not really doing well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22910485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_in_the_air/pseuds/Al_in_the_air
Summary: Loosely based on the the H/G prompt for this week: "Write about two people that cannot understand each other."Harry can't understand why James is crying, James can't understand anything.Little domestic, Dad!Harry drabble I wrote at work.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	It's Hard Being Two

He had been warned, he couldn’t say he didn’t have enough warning. Everyone had told him it was horrible.

“Kids are awful when they’re two, little tyrants!” Bill had said at James’ last birthday. “Brace yourself.” He’d warned.

“Oh yes, if he’s anything like Ginny, you’re in for a rough few month!” Mrs Weasley had added, though she did so with a smile.

It couldn’t be that bad. It wouldn’t be that bad.

Harry should have believed them but why would he. Not his James, not his sweet, beautiful, little angel baby boy! Not his little James that hardly ever cried and slept through the night and laughed all day at everything. He wouldn’t turn into a terror.

He was wrong. He was so, so wrong.

The kitchen was a state. Chairs were sprawled haphazardly across the room, toys were absolutely everywhere and the cottage pie he’d made for lunch was all over the floor and walls and… Ceiling? How did it even get up there?

James was screaming, his tiny, chubby toddler hands balled into fists as he waved them around in the air. His little face was puce with rage, eyes swollen from relentlessly falling tears and voice raw from wailing yet on and on and on he went. 

It had been going on for hours and Harry didn’t know what to do to stop it. He’d tried everything, really he had! Everything those stupid, pretentious parenting books Hermione had given them said, everything Molly had taught him, everything that had worked with Teddy. Nothing helped. Not a thing.

James just kept crying.

“I don’t understand James! What do you want?” Harry asked, almost pleading, as he reached into the high chair to pick up his son. His little fists and little legs were pounding hard as flailed against his father, trying everything to get away.

“Do you want to get down?” Harry asked, leaning over to place James on the kitchen floor.

“No!” James screamed as soon as he was released.

“Up?”

“NO!”

“Do you want a biscuit?” He asked hopefully, handing over a chocolate covered muggle snack that he thought James loved. Expect clearly he didn’t because as soon as the boy had seized it in his hands it was thrown (with surprising force for a two year old) right at Harry’s face, causing him to swear under his breath.

“No!”

Harry clenched his teeth and stared up at the ceiling. _Don’t get angry. Don’t get angry. He’s only a baby, he doesn’t know what he’s doing._

“Do you want to play? Should daddy and James go and play?”

“No!”

“Do you want to and see Grandma and Grandad?”

“NO.”

“Do you want to go for a sleep?”

“No.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No!”

“Are you tired?”

“NO! NO! NO!”

Harry growled, throwing himself into the nearest chair, watching listlessly as his son rolled over and kicked and screamed. He reached up and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. His head was going to explode, he was going to go deaf! Scrap that, he was going to go mad!

“I don’t understand what you want James!” Harry shouted, finally losing his cool. He stood so quickly his chair went flying backwards.

He reached for James, picking him up quickly and held him tight to his chest. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Harry stood there for a while, in his beat up kitchen with his son in his arms and rocked slightly to the sound of his tears. He whispered hushes, kissed his hair, waiting it out until finally, _finally,_ James stopped.

Or he’d gone deaf.

He daren’t move, daren’t even breathe as he waited for the crying to start back up. It didn’t. Instead the noise was replaced by shallow breaths Harry recognised as his son’s little snores.

* * *

Ginny returned home to an exceptionally quiet and exceptionally messy house.

“What have they done now?” she whispered into the bundle of blankets in her arms. “What has your daddy done now?”

What had they done? Why were the bath toys in the kitchen? Was that -? No. Why was there mashed potato on her ceiling?

“Harry?” she called, her tone soft as to not startle the baby in her arms.

When there was no reply, she furrowed her brow walked out the room – careful to avoid the rubber ducks on her way.

She found them quickly, curled up together on the living room sofa. James was sprawled out across Harry’s chest as the latter absentmindedly stroked his back.

“What happened?” Ginny asked quietly, perching down beside them, careful not to wake either of her sleeping babies.

“Your son is a terror.” Harry said simply as he nodded down to the child on his chest. “An absolute tyrant.”

Ginny stayed quiet for a moment, nodded knowingly. “I hate when Bill’s right,” She said at last.

“I don’t understand what got him so upset.” Harry added quietly after a moment. “He was inconsolable.”

“Being two is hard.”

“Yeah… being 25 is hard too.”


End file.
